


A lot more fun than the first time

by Cadjet001



Category: Dragon Quest Series, Dragon Quest VIII
Genre: BDSM, BDSM Scene, Bondage, Community: femslash_kink, Cross-posted on Dreamwidth, Established Relationship, F/F, Heavy BDSM, Pony Play, Roleplay, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-11 00:11:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7014382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cadjet001/pseuds/Cadjet001
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Suffering under a magician's curse wasn't so bad after all, once she found the right magician.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A lot more fun than the first time

**Author's Note:**

> This story is for this prompt:
> 
> Dragon Quest VIII: Jessica Albert/Medea, ponyplay
> 
> http://femslash-kink.dreamwidth.org/15813.html?thread=2154693
> 
> and this one:
> 
> Dragon Quest VIII: Jessica Albert/Medea, whips
> 
> Found here: http://femslash-kink.dreamwidth.org/15813.html?thread=2154437
> 
> I'm going to go out on a limb and guess that the same anon made both requests.

“We're almost there, no peeking."

Princess Medea giggled and squeezed Jessica Albert’s hand. She was wearing a thick silk blindfold and couldn't have peeked if she'd wanted to. Her lover was leading her down a silent gallery on the top floor of Trodain castle. The darkness and quiet heightened Medea’s anticipation; Jessica had been hinting about something very special for days. They turned a corner and went through the door into Jessica's bedroom, took a few more paces and stopped. Jessica helped herself to a quick squeeze of Medea's behind, then removed the blindfold.

"Voilà, your present!" she said.

A dressmaker's dummy stood in the middle of the room. It was modelling a costume that for a few moments Medea didn't realise was a costume at all. There was a bodice made of rusty red leather, but it was half missing, made to cover the wearer's stomach and leave her breasts exposed. There were a pair of thigh-high blue boots and a garter belt, but nothing that would cover the wearer's loins. And as for the hat...

It was something like a tiara, with a long blue plume attached at the centre of the brow. Beneath it, around the manikin's blank face, was a shiny gold bit and the reigns that went with it.

A horse's harness and tack. Jessica had bought her a horse's harness and tack, made up to fit a human, with no bustier and no draws. Jessica was going to dress her up in a horse's harness, with her breasts and bush on display. Jessica was going to dress her as a horse with her tits and ass on display and parade her in front of who knew how many people. Medea stared at the costume with her mouth open and a sudden a warmth in her belly that was as terrifying as it was erotic.

"Do you like it?" said Jessica. Medea turned to her with a delighted grin and kissed Jessica firmly on the mouth. 

"It's wonderful," she said. "Oh Jessica, Jessica thank you."

“I am so glad,” said Jessica, kissing her back. “There’s something else I need to show you.” She pointed to her bed, where a wooden case rested. Medea’s stomach fluttered with anticipation, as she opened the box and examined the objects inside.

There was a whip, with a long black handle and five supple tongues as long as her forearm. Under the whip was a paddle of polished wood, with holes drilled to let the air flow through. Under the paddle, nestled in an indent in the padded base of the case, where two silver bells attached to two cruel little clamps. Beside the tools of torture was a false horse’s tail, made of hair the exact same brunette shade as Medea’s own. At the base of the tail, where it would meet a real horse’s spine…

“Oh Jessica,” said Medea. “You really are wicked.” 

“You can guess where that goes then?” Jessica’s chin nuzzled Medea’s shoulder as her hands crept around her stock to fondle her breasts. “Or is our princess really that innocent?”

“Of course I can guess.” Jessica’s hands were at her shoulders, undoing the broaches which held Medea’s dress in place.

“Where then.”

“It goes up my arse!” 

Jessica laughed, loud and beautiful, and began to strip Medea in earnest.

*

“Remind me of your safeword, one last time.” It was the night after the arrival of the gift and they were back in the same hallway out side Jessica’s suite. 

“Three quick grunts or stamps when I’m bridled, ‘slime’ when I’m not.”

“Good, we start as soon as you’re through the door and finish when one of us says the word.” Jessica went in to the bedroom and closed the door after her. Medea waited for a few minutes, then knocked.

“Come in.”

“You wanted to see me, sorceress?” Jessica was at her desk, an open book in front of her and a quill in her hand.

“Yes, your majesty. It’s an urgent matter, and it can only be discussed in private.”

“Is there danger?” Medea strode across the room towards her court magician, but stopped with a jump when the door slammed itself behind her. The key turned in the lock with an unnaturally loud ‘click!’

“Yes, princess.” Jessica closed her book and stood up with a smirk on her face and a spark in her eye. “I’m the danger.” The sorceress was armed with a vicious whip which hung from her belt.

“What are you talking about,” said Medea. “What is the meaning of this?”

“What I’m talking about is a coup,” Jessica replied. “The usurpation of the throne of Trodain by me, from you.”

“Is this a bad joke?” Medea backed away towards the door and raised her arm in a futile gesture of defence. “Or have you gone mad? Why are you doing this and what do you want of me?”

“I want to be queen,” Jessica said. “I want to be queen and I want you, princess, to be my concubine.”

“All I need to do is scream and a dozen soldiers will come running.”

“You can scream all you like and believe me you will. It won’t help you though; my enchantment has put the entire castle to sleep.” Jessica snapped her fingers and the curtains pulled themselves closed. “You are helplessly in my power.”

“And you intend to ravish me?”

“I don’t think that will be necessary will it?” Jessica looked like a cat eyeing up a particularly plump mouse. “Because you’ve wanted to be my slave ever since I first came to this castle, haven’t you?” 

“You have gone mad!”

“Take off your clothes.” Medea did nothing but stare open mouthed at Jessica and take another useless step backwards towards the locked door. “Don’t be difficult.” Jessica put her hand on the handle of her whip. “The more obedient you are, the happier you’ll be. Now, strip.”

“No.” Medea looked her rogue magician right in the eye. “I won’t do it, you’ll have to make me.”

“If that’s what you want.” Jessica put her hand to her mouth and blew a kiss. The magic struck Medea and filled her head with pink light and dancing bubbles. She forgot where she was, entranced by the miasma, and could only stand and sway gently. 

“Take off your clothes.” Jessica said.

Still marvelling at the beautiful colours, Medea began stripping. Her sense of touch was heightened by the magic running through her; the silk and cotton of her dress felt delicious against her skin. Piece by piece her clothing fell to the floor, making a pool of cloth around her feet. Belt, shawl, gown and skirt, off it all went, her shoes last of all. She stretched lazily and yawned, just as if she were about to climb in to bed. Then the spell faded, and Medea groaned in defeat. She recovered her wits quickly though, put one arm over her bare breasts and covered her bush with the other hand. Medea was a royal princess of Trodain, and she was going to fight the usurping sorceress in any way she could, all the way to the end.

“Are you going to do as you’re told now?” Jessica said. “Or will I have to keep you enchanted all night?”

“You’ll have to keep me enchanted forever. I won’t be your slave. “

“Well that’s no fun at all.” Jessica drew her whip and ran its long scarlet tongues through her fingers. “I really want to use this, but I don’t have to if you’ll surrender right now.”

“You’ll have your fun then. I won’t give in no matter what.”

“Excellent.” Jessica pointed to the foot of her bed and Medea a pair of heavy leather cuffs anchored to the bed’s clawed feet. Another pair hung from the tops of the bedposts. “Stand here princess.”

Medea slowly lowered her arms and walked over to the bed with as much dignity as she could manage. Jessica gently took her left wrist and strapped her in to the bedframe. Her other wrist was bound as well, then her ankles one after the other. The bindings were tight and the chains were short; Medea was left completely helpless except to flex her shoulders and clench her buttocks. The fear in her stomach crept higher; she really was in the rebel sorceress’ power, and in a few moments she was going to be flogged.

With Medea strapped securely to the bed Jessica tied back her captive’s hair and laid it cover her shoulder. Then she stepped back and began to undress. Medea strained to turn her head and saw that under her dress and blouse Jessica was wearing delicate lingerie of midnight blue silk. Jessica vanished into Medea’s peripheral vision as she packed her clothes away in one of the bedroom’s many cabinets. Jessica poured herself a drink from a crystal decanter which stood on top of the cabinet and stared in silence at her naked captive as she savoured the vintage. Jessica began to prowl back and forth, snapping the whip experimentally. Why did she take so long! Medea could feel every part of her body waiting in anticipation for the pain it was about to receive.

“This can end at any time princess.” Jessica raised the whip and held it there like a bolt of thunder about to fall. “All you have to do is say ‘I’m your slave’.” Without waiting for a show of defiance she brought the whip down hard across Medea’s shoulders. The impact was half way between being slapped and being cut. It made her hiss and flinch, but wasn’t half as painful as Medea was expecting. Another stroke came, across her backside, then another on her back, and another and another. Between each blow Medea braced herself for the sudden agony she was sure would come, but each blow disappointed her. These were lashes of love, not punishment. The strokes fell and Medea’s back, buttocks and thighs turned pink under the teasing tongues, but it wasn’t enough. The stinging pain built and spread, but it wasn’t enough. Her body was wide awake, her pussy wet with humiliation and the blows kept coming, but it wasn’t enough.

“Harder.” She said at last. “Stop taunting me and hit me harder!”

“Is what I’m hearing real.” Jessica said in triumphant incredulity. “Are you really ordering me to flog you harder?”

“Yes,” said Medea, her anger suddenly stronger than her humiliation. “Yes, I want you to whip me harder.”

“Slaves don’t make demands.” Jessica said. “But that’s okay. It can be your last command as a princess.” The whip shot out like a serpent’s bite, and Medea’s world went red. Ten blows cross-cut her body from her shoulders drown to her thighs. The pain exploded, hot and sharp and more than enough. Medea howled and shook in her shackles. Jessica panted from exertion and gave an angry grunt with each blow. Medea’s body screamed for her to put a stop to the pain, but she did not know what she should say.

“Mercy!” She finally screamed. “Please have mercy!”

“Are you my slave?” Jessica replied, her arm held back to strike. “Or is there something else you’d like to say?”

“No,” Medea took a great heaving breath and twisted her neck to look at Jessica. At some point without her noticing her captor had torn off her brassier. Jessica’s breasts were truly magnificent. “I am not your slave and I never will be.”

“I can see that you’re not going to break.” Jessica tossed the whip aside and knelt to unstrap Medea’s legs. “We could go a lot harder, but I’m not going to use the twin dragon lash on my pretty doll after all.” She thrust her fingers between Medea’s legs as she stood up and brought them up to her face wet and glistening. “Although maybe you’d enjoy it.” Medea swayed as she came free from the bed and Jessica caught her in a gentle hug. The last few strokes had broken her skin, little beads of blood shinning on her back. Jessica sat her down on the bed and pulled a pouch of green leaves out from under it. The medicine soothed Medea’s pain and washed away her hurt, but the memory of her punishment would not fade so easily.

“Do you feel better?” Jessica said. Medea nodded, still chewing the last of the leaves. “Good, because I’m going to fuck you now.” 

“To ravish me,” Medea said. 

“We’ll see.” Jessica smirked and pushed her back on to the bed. She whispered to Medea as they fucked, reminding her that she was a prisoner and slave, calling her a naughty bitch when she resisted and a whore when she obeyed. Medea simpered defiance and feeble protests, but couldn’t hide her climaxes, her moans and the eagerness of her tongue. Afterwards they lay tangled together on the bed, Medea’s head against Jessica’s chest, Jessica’s hand rubbing slow circles around her well used pussy. 

“Now princess.” Jessica spoke like a mother talking down to a child. “Are you ready to admit what you want?” Her fingers stopped exploring and Medea squirmed in frustration. “You acted like a perfect slave tonight.”

“No.” Medea said, turning her eyes away. “No Jessica. I won’t surrender to you no matter what.”

“Good. That means I can have even more fun with you.” Jessica slipped out of Medea’s embrace and lay down to sleep beside her. “We’ll see how much you resist when you learn what I’ve got in store for you next.”

The royal gardens were filled with birdsong and the sweet smell of hundreds of exotic flowers. Medea stood in the shade of a cherry tree, as naked as she had been for every moment since she’d stripped for Jessica the night before. Jessica stood in full riding gear, with a crop in her hand and her foot on a banded wooden chest. Medea came down from the castle cloaked by an invisibility spell which let nobody but Jessica see her. The magic was as solid as rock, so her captor had told her, but Medea couldn’t help but suspect otherwise. They faced off like duellists as Medea waited to see what humiliation had planned. This time, she was determined not to break.

“It’s a lovely morning,” Jessica said. “Perfect for your next punishment in fact. We’ll see how long you keep playing this silly defiance game when I transform you,” she snapped her fingers and the chest sprang open by itself, “Into my personal pony!” 

“What!” Medea stared at the contents of the chest in horror. Enduring pain was one thing, but being reduced to a pack animal was something far, far worse. “You can’t mean this Jessica. You can’t be this heartless. Beat me again or make me walk through the town naked, but don’t make me be an animal!”

“It isn't your choice, slave.” Jessica waved her hand and the costume rose out of the chest and hung in the air, as though it were held up by an invisible dummy. “You’re going to be my pony, and you’re going to stay my pony until I get tired of it.”

“Please you can’t! I’ll be your slave, I’ll be anything you want, just spare me from this.” Medea gasped and covered her mouth as she realised what she had said. “No, I didn’t mean that. There must be something we can agree on...”

“Say that again.”

“I didn’t mean it.”

“Say it again, or I’ll put the harness on you right now.” The pieces of the pony costume vibrated in the air, as though they were desperate to spring forward. Medea clenched her fists and swallowed her pride.

“I’ll be your slave.”

“And again.”

“I’m your slave.”

“Then show me,” Jessica thrust her booted foot forward. “Kiss me, slave.” Medea sobbed as she dropped to her knees and crawled forward. She plastered Jessica’s boot with kisses, from the toe past the heel and up her calf. The leather was cold under her lips and the smell of it filled her nostrils. She could not believe how quickly she’d been broken; the sorceress was a hundred times more ruthless than she could have imagined. 

“Stand up,” Jessica said, and Medea obeyed right away. “Didn’t I tell you you wanted to be a slave?” Medea nodded in abject misery. “Good. Now let’s get you harnessed.”

Corset, boots, gag, tail and harness; they whirled around Medea in a shimmering enchanted breeze. She was lifted in to the air by invisible hands, twisted and turned like a marionette as the costume forced itself on her. She opened her mouth to wail in protest, but the bit leapt in to place and the sound turned into a gurgle. She tried to kick her legs, but the long boots with their hoof-like toes simply slipped on to her limbs. The corset tightened itself with a single sharp tug, and the cruel little bells snapped their cruel little jaws around her nipples. The wind died, the music faded and there Medea stood, in full harness, transformed into a horse once again. Transformed, she realised, in every way but one.

“Bend over, slave.” Jessica raised the tail in one hand and a bottle of lubricant oil in the other. Medea’s eyes widened in shock as the plug penetrated her. It seemed impossibly large, far bigger than it looked, and it filled her up completely. Jessica adjusted the strap which would hold the tail in place and gave Medea three quick stinging slaps on the behind for good measure. “We have a long day ahead of us, so let me know if you need a rest!” Jessica stamped her foot three times for emphasis, then seized Medea by the reigns and led her across the gardens and in to the stable yard, where a light rickshaw waited for them.

Medea’s blood pulsed in her cheeks as she drew Jessica out of the palace, passed the guards at the gate and on down the cobbled road to Trodain town. Could anything be more disgraceful than being used as a pack animal by her captor, being shown off as a beast of burden in harness? Her hands were cuffed to the cart handles, the bells jingled with every step she took, and the tail fucked her with every jingle. 

There were dozens of people making their way back and forth from the castle and all of them turned to stare. Jessica held a short whip, which she gave an occasional flick over Medea’s shoulders. Medea whinnied through her bit at each and raised her knees high in her best impression of a horse’s gait. 

They entered the town, passing more and more people as they made their way to the market. More and more heads turned to watch. Almost everyone knew Jessica Albert; some waved and others called hello. All were impressed by Jessica’s carriage, and Medea’s heart beat faster and faster.

Surely she would be heard, surely someone would see! Would the spell concealing her hold, or would she be exposed in front of all her subjects? The thought of it made her giddy, frightened and aroused both at once. It would be a disaster beyond words for anyone to see her so lowly, so humiliated and so wanton. There in the crowd! A young peasant woman her own age was staring right at Medea with her mouth open and cheeks crimson. Their eyes meet and Medea pleaded with the woman not to say anything, not to give her away in from of all these people. A moment later the magic did it’s job and the peasant girl’s eyes slid over her. She had already forgotten exactly what she’d seen, but the way she hurried away suggested that the back of her mind still knew that something very, very lewd was taking place. 

Medea grinned into her bit and let herself sink back in to her fantasy. She was a princess turned slave turned helpless ponygirl, being broken in to complete obedience by her haughty captor. She was being displayed to her utter disgrace in front of all of her subjects and at least some of them, women of her own age and interests, knew it. She’d carry on drawing her mistress through the town and out in to the countryside with her bells jingling all the way, and when they finally arrived back at the castle she’d stamp her foot three times, drag Jessica up to the royal bedroom turn the tables on her until sunset.


End file.
